


green gloves, prom, and red velvet cupcakes

by pipercase



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, So much bickering, kyle has fun for once in his life, they’re in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipercase/pseuds/pipercase
Summary: Cartman finds out the hard way that asking Kyle to prom isn’t quite as simple as he initially anticipated.





	green gloves, prom, and red velvet cupcakes

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my gf who doesn’t ship kyman I love you baby

The first time Cartman asked Kyle to prom was kind of disaster. He’d spent the entirety of the month leading up to it watching all of those promposal videos. Teenage boys filling their girlfriend’s lockers with balloons, serenading their classmates with 80s love songs, and just generally making fools of themselves for the sake of getting laid on prom night. 

_ literal goals tbh _

_ omfg I can’t even get a text back  _

_ so cute!!! _

The comments on every video were the same. Cartman would scroll through them with a smirk, the same thing echoing in his head as he read:  Not as cute as me and Kyle.

He and Kyle weren’t  _ official _ official yet, but Cartman thought they might as well have been. He’d been wanting it for forever, and just that Friday night Kyle had finally kissed him. 

The lead up to the kiss had lasted for weeks. Months. Even years. It was something Cartman had been dreaming about since childhood, and when it finally happened it felt like he was walking on air. 

Kyle had resisted his advances for ages, which is why Cartman took notice the moment he began to show signs of yielding. The first time he laughed at one of Cartman’s jokes instead of scolding him for it was Tuesday, December 15th of their junior year. Cartman knew because he wrote it down. 

He was incredibly in love with Kyle, and this was a fact he had come to accept. It just wasn’t until their senior year that he decided to do something about it. 

Parties weren’t something that Cartman really got invited to. No matter how much he’d changed for the better as he grew into young adulthood, no amount of repenting could erase the person he used to be. 

However, being hated by most of the people in his grade didn’t stop him from tagging along to social gatherings every now and then. That’s where he’d been last Friday, trying and failing to remain under the radar at a party being thrown at Token’s house. Not being thrown  _ by _ Token, just being hosted at his parents’ mansion. The half assed food and drink supply made it obvious that it was mostly Clyde’s doing. 

Post-game parties were customary during football season, and Cartman’s group of friends normally showed up to their fair share of them. Stan was always invited because he was on the team, Kenny was always invited because he was genuinely that likable, and Kyle was always invited because he was Stan and Kenny’s best friend. Cartman had never once been explicitly invited, and he’d often been strictly forbidden from attending. Somehow, though, he often wormed his way in despite this. 

“It’s not even a party!” Kyle would say every night without fail. The statement was never true, but it allowed Kyle to have plausible deniability if questioned about whether or not he was making responsible decisions on Friday nights. 

These get togethers typically consisted of beer, video games, and junk food. If they were very lucky, some of the girls would decide to show up. That Friday, though, had been nothing but guys. The usual crowd all piled into Token’s basement, and with no girls to impress they were all acting a little more drunk and disorderly than usual.

Clyde had started speaking in his obnoxious “drunk voice” early in the evening, and Jimmy has arrived with his raunchiest jokes. Stan was the hero of the night for managing to sneak no less than three cases of beer from under his dad’s nose—not that deceiving Randy Marsh was any great accomplishment. 

As they all settled into the basement, they fought over controllers and which video game to play first. It made sense that Token’s closest friends got first pick of the seats, so he, Jimmy, Clyde, and Craig got comfortable on the spacious couch without having to squeeze. Tweek had stayed home that night, and Craig kept looking down at his phone to answer texts from him. 

“Can we actually play some fun games tonight?” Kyle asked. “Last weekend all you guys got out was dumb shit.” 

He pulled up a chair next to Stan, who was sitting on an arm of the couch. Kenny was on the floor right under them, and Cartman sat next to him. 

“No one’s forcing you to be here, Broflovski.” Craig pointed out. “Go home if you don’t like the shit we play.” 

“Shouldn’t you be giving up that seat on the couch to go be with your husband?” Kyle quipped back. 

“Ladies, break it up!” Kenny said. “Are we here to have a good time or not?” 

Kyle didn’t answer, but he slumped slightly in the chair he had brought over. Cartman wondered if the idea of having fun had even crossed his mind. They’d probably been there for more than half an hour, and he hadn’t seen Kyle take even a sip of a drink. Maybe he’d ask him about that later. 

Within a few minutes, controllers were distributed and a game had started. Cartman wasn’t one of the lucky few to play first, and he watched with a hint of envy as the others laughed and cried out. He could’ve joined in, of course, but he knew that the most people in the room probably didn’t want him there in the first place. The party hadn’t even been going on for an hour when he got sick of it. 

“Ugh. This is such a waste of time.” He announced rudely, standing up to leave. “Screw you guys, I’m going home.” 

Kyle was the only one in the room full of people to look up from the video game and acknowledge Cartman. He looked startled by the announcement, even concerned. 

“You’re going home?” He asked. “Don’t be stupid. Stan drove us here. You don’t have a car!” 

“Uh, so?” Cartman asked rudely. “I’ll walk, Kahl. God knows I’m used to working my ass off.” 

Under normal circumstances, Kyle would’ve snapped back instantly with a refutation. At the moment, he seemed too preoccupied with the already established problem. 

“Come on! No. You live all the way on the other side of town.” 

“And? I’m seventeen years old, Kyle. I’m practically an adult.”

“Shut up. It’s dangerous. Why can’t you just stay here, you moron?”

“Because I’m bored out of my fucking mind!” 

“Oh my god, will you be quiet? It’s hard to focus on the game with you two bickering.” Craig interrupted exasperatedly. 

Kyle flung his controller to the side in a huff, causing a few of the other boys to groan. Cartman raised an eyebrow as Kyle rose from the couch and walked toward him. 

“Stan, I need to use your car.” He said without breaking eye contact with Cartman. “Please?” 

This broke Stan’s attention away from the game, and he frowned at Kyle’s back. 

“Aw, dude. My car? Fucking why?” 

Kyle spun around with a hand on one hip and a stern look on his face that resembled one of his mother’s famous expressions. Stan looked baffled. 

“Because, Stan!” Kyle said. “Cartman’s being a stubborn bitch about leaving, so I have to drive him home. It’ll only take, like. twenty minutes. I’ll be back in no time.” 

“Well, you don’t actually  _ have _ to drive him home.” Kenny mumbled. 

“Sorry what was that, Kenny?” Kyle snapped. Kenny shrugged and looked back to the game, never one to engage in an argument. 

“You’re being bitchier than normal, Kyle.” Cartman pointed out. “I’m perfectly capable of—!”

“Can I use the car or not, Stan?” Kyle asked, tuning out the sound of Eric’s voice completely. 

“Sure, fine, whatever!” Stan said apathetically, fishing a ring of keys out of his pocket and tossing it to Kyle.

Smirking with satisfaction, Kyle caught them with ease. Cartman was awash in confusion, wondering why the hell someone had just spent the last several minutes arguing just so he could have a ride home. 

“Let’s go, fatass.” Kyle said. “I want to be back in time for round three.” 

As if in a trance, Cartman followed Kyle up the stairs and out into Token’s massive driveway without further complaint. Luckily, Stan’s car wasn’t being trapped in by any of the various other vehicles. They walked down the length of the driveway in silence. 

Colorado temperatures had already begun to dip into cold, bordering on freezing. Cartman bit his tongue, fighting the urge to complain about the weather. Kyle was the one who was acting weird, and he didn’t want any of his behavior to distract from that. 

“Do you like fall?” Kyle asked once they’d gotten into the car and the heat was on. 

Cartman had to make sure he’d heard him right. Hmm. Yep. Here he was at 11 pm on a Friday night, and Kyle Broflovski was asking him gay questions. He imagined this was what Stan’s weekends usually consisted of. 

“Do I...like fall, Kyle?” He asked warily, not wanting the tone of the conversation to collapse. 

Kyle nodded, looking not at Cartman but into some non specific middle distance. The trees that framed Token’s house looked so eerie at night. 

“Uh...sure, dude. I like fall. It’s chilly without being completely unbearable yet, and...Halloween is sweet. Do you like fall, Kyle?” 

Finally, Kyle turned to face him. He looked eager as nodded, gripping the steering wheel. 

“Yeah! For those same reasons. I totally feel the same way, dude. Fall is, like, my favorite season.”

Cartman nodded, unsure of the direction that Kyle was hoping this direction would take. What was Cartman supposed to say now? The answer didn’t seem to matter, because just then Kyle shook his head and made a swift return to form. 

“Sorry.” He said. “I got all gay on you for a second.” 

“...not at all, Kyle.” Cartman lied. 

Kyle shook his head once more, apparently clearing it of any and all thoughts that he deemed “gay”. Cartman tried not to feel disappointed as he stuck the key in the ignition to start the car. 

“Sorry about that.” Kyle said sheepishly. 

Cartman surveyed him, looking for the punchline. Kyle was being vulnerable tonight, and he didn’t understand why. A large part of Cartman wanted to enjoy the moment, but a stronger part of him always felt the need to be on the defense. 

“So...uh. What the fuck is the deal, Kyle?” He asked suspiciously after they’d been driving for a few minutes. 

Kyle chose to play dumb rather than address the strangeness of the situation. The blank look on his face didn’t falter. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. Cartman rolled his eyes. 

“What the fuck do you mean what do I mean? You insisted on driving me home! That was fucking weird.” 

If Kyle was embarrassed or even slightly disturbed, he didn’t show it. He just kept driving down the snowy road, not once looking away from his trajectory. 

“Weird? Why? I’m just being a nice guy, dude.” 

Cartman rolled his eyes. Kyle was normally insufferable, but this was taking it to an entirely new level. He turned into their shared neighborhood silently, still choosing not to elaborate on what exactly was going on. 

“Right. Nice to me? To Eric Cartman? You noticed how you were the only one in that house who was even pretending to give a shit about me, right? Much less my...welfare, or whatever.” 

There was an extended pause as Kyle’s face actually changed, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He seemed to consider his words very carefully. 

“Well...I wasn’t pretending, dude.” He said seriously. 

Cartman wanted to scream. Why the fuck was Kyle being so cryptic? If he would just say what he was actually thinking, this conversation could’ve been over ages ago.

“You...weren’t pretending?” Cartman clarified. “What, to care about me? 

Kyle shook his head emphatically at the wheel. Cartman almost made a snarky comment about keeping his eyes on the road but quickly thought better of it. 

“No, dude! I wasn’t pretending at all. Have I ever pretended to care about you?” 

Cartman gestured vaguely with his hands to signal confusion then realized that Kyle was still looking diligently at the road and couldn’t see what he was doing. 

“I don’t fucking know! Have you?” 

Finally, Kyle faced him. For some reason, the motion made Cartman’s heart start pounding considerably faster. Kyle had the most deadly serious expression on his face. 

“No, dude!” He insisted. “Of course not.” 

Cartman’s heart leaped before promptly sinking as he realized that Kyle was turning down his street. They would be at his house in a matter of seconds, and Cartman really didn’t want this conversation to end. 

Silence fell upon them again, as Cartman tried desperately to gauge Kyle’s responses to this interaction. Once again, though, his feelings were unreadable. As Kyle pulled into Cartman’s driveway and he prepared to get out of the car, he was surprised when Kyle brought it to a complete stop instead of just putting it in park. 

“Coming in?” He asked. Kyle looked embarrassed. 

“I just thought I’d walk you to your door.” He said. “Is that okay?” 

“Uh...feel free, Kyle.” 

As the two of them stepped into the night, Cartman assumed that he must have entered some kind of parallel universe. Why was Kyle acting like they were boyfriends or something? They began heading toward the front door, but Kyle stopped them. 

“Cartman.” He said abruptly. 

“Yes?” Cartman asked. 

He couldn’t even begin to figure out what Kyle’s next move would be, and he was bewildered when he saw him take a step forward. 

“I...” 

Kyle’s words faded away, but he took a step closer. Cartman watched, paralyzed by surprise, as he brought a hand up to Cartman’s cheek. In one swift motion he moved their faces into one another, pressing a very purposeful kiss to Eric’s lips. 

The first thing Cartman felt was a wave of shock, and the second was a wave of crushing disappointment. This must be a dream, he realized. This is how all of his many dreams about Kyle ended. Soon, he would wake up and go back into the real world where—

“Fatass!” Kyle snapped. “Hello? Don’t even bother acting like you don’t like me back. What’s the problem?” 

Oh. Maybe this wasn’t a dream. Cartman came to life, one of his hands mindlessly traveling up to touch Kyle’s cheek. Kyle looked at him impatiently, still waiting on a response. 

“Uh, hello?” He asked. Cartman cocked his head to the side in awe. 

“Just checking if you’re real. You are.” 

The words took the rug out from under Kyle, and he turned pink with embarrassment. Cartman was soaking in every moment so that he could write about it in his journal later. He still wasn’t completely sure that this moment wouldn’t suddenly vanish, leaving him with nothing but a shaky recollection. 

“Oh my god, Cartman.” Kyle mumbled sheepishly. “You’re so dramatic, dude.” 

Cartman glared at him, not moving his hand. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! It’s not like my entire world is changing or anything!” He said sarcastically. 

Kyle grinned at him, looking slightly amused and very happy. Despite the fact that he could feel Kyle’s face in the palm of his hand, he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he was real. Kyle took advantage of his visible shock to lean in again, bringing their lips together. He pulled away after only a few seconds to examine how Cartman felt about all of this. 

“You’re seriously gonna miss round three, Kyle.” He said breathlessly, his words coming to life in the cold air. 

Kyle laughed even though Cartman hadn’t been attempting to be funny and grabbed his hand. Just as Cartman was about to ask for another kiss, Kyle seemed to experience a burst of anger. 

“Wait, Cartman!” He yelled. “Where the fuck are your gloves?” 

Cartman was thrown off. Gloves? How could Kyle be thinking about gloves at a time like this? His entire body had been flooded with warmth the moment that Kyle kissed him, so winter clothes were the last thing on his mind. 

“Fucking gloves? Jesus...I don’t know! I...lost them, I guess. Why are you bringing this up?” 

“Because!” Kyle said sternly. “You’re gonna freeze.” 

He began to furiously tear off his own green gloves, balling them up and forcing them into Cartman’s palms. 

“You’re such an idiot.” He scolded. “Use these.”

Surprised, Cartman looked at the brightly colored gloves now in his hand. They weren’t as vivid as they once were, and Cartman wondered when they’d last been replaced. Sophomore year, maybe? 

“What the fuck? These are yours.” He said, shoving them toward Kyle’s chest. “It’s my own fault I lost the fucking gloves. You keep these.”

Kyle shook his head stubbornly, giving the gloves to Cartman yet again.

“No.” He said resolutely. “I have other pairs. You need to wear them, or you’ll get sick. Okay?” 

Cartman went over a few options in his head. If he didn’t take the gloves, then he would be forfeiting an opportunity to possess an article of clothing that belonged to his long term fixation. Instant no. However, letting Kyle freeze was also out of the question. He began pulling a glove onto his right hand, when he was struck with an idea. 

“Oh!” He cried out. He rushed to take Kyle’s left hand and started forcing the remaining glove into it. Kyle looked at him like he was crazy. 

“We can both wear one!” Cartman explained. “Pretty cool idea, right?” 

Kyle laughed, but he didn’t take the glove off his hand or argue with Cartman about it. 

“I have to get going, dude.” He said apologetically. “You’ll text me, right?” 

Cartman held in a laugh at that last part. He texted Kyle constantly on a regular day, so he could only imagine what he would do after the whirlwind he’d just experienced.

“Sounds good.” He said, his voice cracking a little with nerves. He hasn’t realized just how shaky he was. 

“Alright.” Kyle said, giving him a kiss on the cheek that went by so fast he almost missed it. “I’ll see you.” 

“Have fun at Token’s.” Cartman barely choked out, still pretty stunned by everything that had just happened. 

He watched as Kyle pulled out of the driveway, lifting his hand from the steering wheel at one point to wave at him. He watched Kyle drive all the way to the end of the street, and then he kept watching for a few minutes after he’d disappeared. 

This was pure insanity. When he finally wandered into his house, he just sat on his bed for a while and thought things over. _Kyle likes me, Kyle likes me, Kyle likes me,_ he repeated over and over in his mind. 

If he had been mildly obsessed with prom before, now that idea was running completely wild. He thought it over all weekend, in between sending halfway flirty messages to Kyle. By Saturday night, he knew exactly what his game plan was. On Monday during sixth period, he skipped class to prepare it.

“Hey!” He called out to his friends, considerably cheerier than usual. 

Kyle was standing in front of his locker in the middle of the hallway. Locker 157. Cartman always made sure to find out Kyle’s locker number on the first day of every school year; sometimes he even knew it before Kyle himself did. 

“Hey, Kyle.” Cartman said, attempting to be casual. “Looking great as always.” 

He leaned one side on a locker and grinned. Behind Kyle, Kenny stuck a finger down his throat and pretended to gag. Stan snorted with laughter. 

“What the fuck do you want, fatass?” Kyle asked.

His face was twisted in annoyance, but the barely there blush on his cheekbones revealed some other, hidden feeling. Something he wasn’t saying.

“I just wanna talk to you, baby.” 

The clandestine emotion disappeared from Kyle’s face, replaced instantly with rage. Cartman stepped back warily, wondering what was so horrible about what he’d said. 

“Dude, what?” Stan asked incredulously. “Don’t be fucking weird.” 

Ohhh. A flash of understanding shot through Cartman’s mind. Kyle clearly hadn’t told Stan about the kiss that had occurred on Friday night, and he was embarrassed. 

“I’m not your fucking baby.” Kyle seethed. “Get away from me.” 

This was a far cry from the Kyle that Cartman had been with only a couple nights ago, but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Kyle was probably using extra anger to overcompensate for having kissed him. 

“Why are you only wearing one glove, dude?” Stan asked, looking at Eric’s hands curiously. 

Cartman looked down at hands and found that yes, he was indeed wearing only on glove. Kyle’s green glove was on his right hand. He shifted his line of vision over to Kyle and saw that he was also wearing only one bright green glove. Although, he also had his other hand covered by a nondescript black glove. 

When Stan pointed it out, he quickly stuffed both hands into his pocket. Cartman tried not to let his feelings get hurt. 

Kyle seemed extremely perturbed by something—that much was obvious. He looked the way he did before a big test. Although he had no idea what was causing Kyle’s bad mood this time, Cartman knew that it probably wasn’t the best time to create a big spectacle at his locker. 

“Uh...Kyle?” He said nervously, stepping backward in preparation to run like hell if he needed to.

“What?” Kyle asked. “I need to get to class, dude. I don’t have time for this.” 

A jolt of annoyance shot into Cartman’s body, and he cocked his head to one side. He wished Kyle wouldn’t act so weird and uptight like this all the time. Cartman was only trying to have fun with him, and now it was all gonna be ruined. 

“Just...maybe don’t open your locker, okay?” He said in a warning tone. Kyle either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. 

“I have to put my psych book away, thanks.” He said. “You don’t have to watch if it pains you so much.” 

As he began fiddling with his lock, putting in the combination, Cartman wished he could save this moment for a day when Kyle wasn’t being so weird. He also wanted to yell out a warning, but attracting the attention of more people would only make Kyle angrier. 

Just as Cartman was actually beginning to consider bolting out of there, the hallway flooded with balloons. They were black, gold, and silver, and it must’ve been some kind of miracle how Cartman had managed to stuff so many in such a small space. All around them, kids were distracted by the sudden stream of party decorations. 

“What the fuck?” Kyle asked. “Is this your idea of a joke, Cartman?” 

Eric wished the tile floor would swallow him whole. He didn’t think this was how these things were supposed to go. 

“Well?” Kyle asked when he said nothing in return. 

“Um....” Cartman trailed off. “Surprise? Will you...go to prom with me?” 

The question fell into the air like a boulder, causing many passersby to look up to see what was happening. When they realized just who was speaking and who he was addressing, they picked up their pace and walked briskly away. No one wanted to be caught in the middle of this. 

“Cartman.” Kyle said with intensity. “Are you fucking with me? I seriously thought we were making progress.” 

Cartman took a bold step in his direction, doing his best to look friendly. The last thing he needed was for Kyle to think he was on the receiving end of a prank. 

“No!” He said resolutely. “No way, Kyle!” 

The bell rang as he said this, but none of the four boys left standing in the hallway moved an inch. Cartman and Kyle were engaged in one of their famous stand offs, and Stan and Kenny didn’t want to take the risk of walking away and coming back to a murder scene. 

“Okay.” Kyle said, his voice low. “Then can you explain to me in what world it is that I would like something like that? Have you ever even met me, you asshole? This is so embarrassing.” 

Cartman didn’t know what to do with that. He’d consumed so many of those stupid promposal videos, and balloons had been featured in so many of them. Not to mention the fact that they were all huge, public spectacles. Maybe that had something to do with it? 

“Kyle, are you bummed that more people didn’t see?” He asked. 

Kyle practically roared, causing Stan to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kenny looked wary too, glancing nervously between Cartman and Kyle. Cartman figured that the answer to his question must be a resounding no. 

“What’s your problem, anyway?” Kyle asked furiously. “It’s fucking September! Prom is months away.” 

Cartman gave an exaggerated sigh, batting a stray balloon out of his field of vision. Kyle stood in expectant annoyance, awaiting an explanation. 

“Well, Kyle,” Cartman began, “I honestly didn’t expect this to work the first time. You always have made things difficult for me.”

Before Kyle could react, Stan stepped forward looking absolutely perplexed. 

“Hold on. Wait.” He said. “You mean this isn’t a joke? You actually want to take Kyle to prom? Like, for real?” 

Cartman was filled with frustration, and Stan’s voice suddenly cutting through the tension was enough to drive him crazy. He needed to focus on Kyle and Kyle only. 

“Are you blind and deaf or just stupid?” He asked rudely. Stan raised his hands in surrender. 

Cartman expected someone to raise some argument in Stan’s defense, but no one did. In fact, Kenny seemed to agree with him. 

“Get with the program, Stan.” He said. “These two assholes have been skirting around the inevitable for years.” 

Cartman could’ve laughed if the look on Kyle’s face wasn’t so grim. He was obviously still pissed beyond belief. 

“You now what? I’m not doing this right now.” He announced. “I’m already late to seventh period, so...bye.”

He took one last look at Cartman. 

“You better take some good fucking notes in that class. I’ll need to copy them later.” 

And with that he spun around, facing away from his friends and walking down the hallway. No one knew quite what to say, and they all exchanged silent, confused stares. 

“Uh...okay.” Stan said after a moment. “I’m fucking out of here, dude. I’m going to class.” 

Kenny nodded, giving Cartman a conciliatory pat on the back before following Stan down the hall. As he watched his friends disperse, Cartman prayed that all of balloons would be gone by tomorrow morning. They were just huge, obnoxious reminders of his failure. Eventually, he decided he had nothing better to do than head to class. 

He sat through most of his last period fuming and pointedly not taking any notes. Fuck Kyle! Did he lead him on just to be a dick, or was he genuinely oblivious to how Cartman felt? He didn’t take him as the type to play mind games like this. 

As the class began winding down, Cartman felt a vibration in his pocket. He’d been so deeply invested in his thoughts about Kyle that the feeling startled him, and he pulled his phone out angrily to check it. He was surprised to see that the notification was from Kyle, and the text he’d sent was rather long.

_ I’m sorry for exploding earlier. I know you weren’t trying to be evil or anything. I’m not really that mad...you’re just stupid. I’m coming to your house after school and we can talk then. and study for the physics test because I know you need to.  _

Cartman’s nose wrinkled in confusion. This wasn’t part of the he-does-something-outlandish-and-Kyle-gets-mad routine. Then again, neither was kissing. Or asking each other to prom. As the final bell rang, he worried about what was going to happen when Kyle showed up at his house. 

He chose to walk home, not wanting to get back in Stan’s car and have Kenny ask a million annoying questions about the balloons and the fighting. He nearly ran into a lamppost at one point because he was so distracted by his inner monologue. 

He was relieved to find that his mom was out of the house, which meant he wouldn’t have to deal with her attempts at small talk. He went straight to his room and flung himself down on the bed, looking up the ceiling and feeling sorry for himself. 

After only a brief period of solace, Kyle arrived in his room without warning. One minute Cartman was alone, splayed out woefully on his bed, and then suddenly Kyle was standing over him. He looked pissed. 

“Cartman, may I ask just how the fuck you do that?” He asked. 

Cartman jumped into a sitting position, startled out of his mind. He would’ve liked a text letting him know that someone would be there to interrupt his wallowing. 

“What, Kyle?” He asked distractedly, trying to comb his hair into submission with frantic hands. 

“How do you do that?” Kyle repeated. “How do you manage to piss me off more than anyone else in the world?” 

Cartman blinked. He blinked again. He sat for a moment searching for the right answer. What did Kyle want from him? He figured he’d start with honesty and go from there. 

“Uh...I try the hardest?” He asked. 

Kyle didn’t look satisfied with that, and Cartman considered that he may have come off sounding like a smart ass. That really hadn’t been his intention, but he had a knack for it anyway. 

“But you weren’t trying today.” Kyle said. “I know you, and I know you weren’t. You actually thought I’d be impressed by your dumb balloons.” 

The memory stung at the back of Cartman’s neck. He still couldn’t figure out where he’s gone wrong, and the mental image of being rejected was hot and fresh in his mind. 

“Yes.” He said seriously. “I thought I was being romantic!” 

Kyle continued to regard him judgementally, probably looking for any clue that he was being manipulated. But Cartman just stared back at him non threateningly, leaning back on his hands. 

“I told Stan about the kiss, by the way.” Kyle announced, completely unprompted. 

Cartman was shocked. Of all the things he had predicted Kyle might say, that wasn’t one of them. He assumed that he would remain Kyle’s dirty little secret...if anything. 

“You told Stan?” He asked, needing clarification. Kyle didn’t backpedal. 

“Yup.” He said, as though it were no big deal at all. “I thought it might be better to rip that bandaid off, don’t you?”

Cartman was at a loss for what to say. He merely shrugged as an image of Stan projectile vomiting sprung to his mind. 

“I guess so. Does he...approve?” 

Kyle didn’t like his choice of words. That much was evident by the way his eyebrows fell angrily into each other. Cartman could’ve kicked himself. 

“I don’t need anyone’s  _ approval _ .” Kyle said fiercely. “But...he didn’t freak out or anything, which was kind of nice.” 

Cartman stood in an effort to close the power imbalance between them. Considering that Kyle still had a good few inches on him, it wasn’t very effective.

“I don’t get it.” He confessed. “Why bother telling Stan that you kissed me when you aren’t even gonna be my prom date? You could’ve just acted like that never happened.”

Kyle looked a little embarrassed by the mention of the kiss, but it wasn’t the sort of embarrassment that came with vindictive rage. He just looked a little shy, only confusing Cartman further. 

“Well....” Kyle trailed off. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? You knew that first try wouldn’t work. Good thing you gave yourself a good eight months to try again.” 

Cartman gawked at him, still unable to fully comprehend the complete 180 that his life had taken in the last few days. Kyle Broflovski was...flirting with him. 

“You mean...I didn’t fuck everything up?” 

“You could’ve.” Kyle said. “But...” 

He trailed off, staring at the blue wall behind Cartman. 

“Well...you didn’t, okay? You know I like you.” 

Cartman wished he could scream at him. No, he didn’t know that! Why was Kyle acting like it was so obvious? His heart soared, even if he still had no idea what was going on. 

“Why are you being so...picky, Kyle?” He asked, careful not to sound too bratty. 

Kyle sighed, and Cartman could identify immediately that this was something that had been bothering him a while. He’d stepped directly into a trap, standing in front of Kyle once his floodgates had been opened. 

“Because!” Kyle said. “Do you know how often you’ve humiliated me over the years? Especially when we were kids?” 

Cartman took a brief mental inventory, flipping through a million interactions with Kyle. There was plenty of teasing, cruelty, and elaborate plots to get his attention. Humiliation was there too, but it wasn’t Kyle’s that stood out. 

“Me? Humiliated you?” Cartman asked. “I seem to remember being humiliated a lot more often. Do you recall my stint with Tourette’s syndrome?” 

Kyle crossed his arms and made a face, not looking impressed. 

“And? That wasn’t my fault! You were just being careless and stupid like always.” 

Eric wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t in Kyle’s nature to go after anyone as a personal target for degradation, so every time he attacked Cartman could be boiled down to self defense. Cartman bowed his head. 

“You’re right. I was the one who humiliated myself with all the dumb shit I did.”

Kyle seemed to remember his original point, and he snapped his fingers in realization. Cartman waited for a long winded speech. 

“Exactly!” Kyle said. “You were constantly doing dumb, nasty...actively destructive shit! And you know what I did every time?” 

For the second time in the last couple minutes, Cartman was forced to recollect on the height of his monstrous behavior. He saw a younger Kyle, always just waiting to jump down his throat. 

“You would yell at me.” Cartman answered candidly. “And you would call me stupid. You still do all of that now, but it’s...on a smaller scale.” 

Kyle nodded, but he didn’t look like he was even on the same planet. He was intently focused on his own thoughts, trying to lasso them all together into a coherent sentence. Cartman could tell all of that just by looking at him briefly. When he saw that Kyle wasn’t ready to answer, he continued speaking. 

“So....yelling at me and calling me stupid was humiliating for you?” 

Kyle came back to reality to look at him exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air. 

“No, no!” He said. “I did something with much more gravity than any of that: I forgave you. Every time! Did you ever notice that? I constantly gave you second and fourth and fifteenth chances to be better!” 

Cartman did remember that. He remembered Kyle protecting him from himself. He remembered thinking on more than one occasion that he’d lost Kyle forever...but he never did. Kyle always came back. 

“I made myself look like such an idiot!” Kyle exclaimed. “Like you could do anything, and I wouldn’t make you face any actual consequences for it. How am I any better than your mom?” 

Cartman cracked a smile at that. The idea that Kyle could ever be a fraction of the enabler that his mom was was ridiculous. Kyle would never let anyone walk all over him the way she did. 

“Kyle, you need to chill o—“

Cartman stopped himself when he saw the sincere flicker of guilt on Kyle’s face. This was clearly an issue that he felt strongly about, and Eric wasn’t helping matters by minimizing the problem. Mentally, he gave himself a little pat on the back for having the awareness to recognize that. 

“Do you want to know what Stan said when I told him about the kiss?” Kyle said suddenly, giving a short, humorless laugh. 

Cartman shook his head and braced himself. If he had to guess, he would say that Stan must have been disgusted. Who wouldn’t be horrified that their best friend had kissed Eric Cartman? Kyle grimaced. 

“He said he wasn’t surprised....because with all the shit I put up with from you, he just assumed I must be in love.” 

In light of the pained look of guilt on Kyle’s face, Eric did his best to mask his amusement. He’d never thought about it from that angle before, but it actually made a lot of sense. Kyle was totally in love with him. 

“But I’ve always forgiven you too easily!” Kyle continued, caught up in the emotion of his own rant. “It shouldn’t be that way!”

Cartman’s smugness disappeared. Kyle had gotten another crazy idea in his head about morality and redemption or something, and he could tell his life was about to get harder. 

“It shouldn’t be that way?” He asked disappointedly. Kyle shook his head. 

“No! I’m not just gonna let you win me over with some shitty promposal. You’re smart, dude! You need to...think this through and try again.” 

Cartman forced his face into a neutral expression, mostly because he wasn’t sure how Kyle wanted him to respond. If he made one misstep here, Kyle might not decide to be so weirdly open to the idea of being promposed to by him. 

“So...you aren’t mad at me?” He asked. 

Kyle fixed him with an unreadable gaze. Well, at least it was unreadable to Cartman. He felt of flash of anxiety, hoping he hadn’t made Kyle angry again. Kyle didn’t look mad, though. He shrugged and took a step closer to Eric. 

“Just...oh, fuck it. Here.” 

Kyle used a thumb to grab his chin, pulling him forward for a kiss. Cartman blinked in surprise when they separated. 

“You’re seriously confusing the fuck out of me here, Kyle.” He said simply. 

Kyle laughed. 

“I know. But I can’t make this easy for you, can I? That wouldn’t be fair. I’m holding you to a high standard! I know you can get this right.” 

Cartman mulled that over for a few seconds. Kyle’s words boded well for the future of their relationship, but they also implied that Cartman would need to do some leg work in order to make this work. He sighed. 

“Okay. I understand, Kyle.” He lied. “Are we gonna make out now?” 

Kyle laughed again, and Cartman felt a throbbing sense of frustration in his stomach. He prided himself on his deep understanding of Kyle, and at the moment the purpose of his behavior was a complete mystery. 

“No, dumbass.” Kyle said. “We’re actually gonna study.” 

He slung the backpack off of his shoulder and set it on the bed before pulling out his books. Cartman watched as multiple organized notebooks hit his mattress. Gross. 

“You’re making my life hell, Kyle.” He deadpanned. Kyle smiled. 

“Oh yeah?” He said. “Welcome to my world.” 

Cartman couldn’t exactly argue with that. He flounced back down on the bed and looked around at the study materials. Normally he would have started to complain by now, but Kyle was smiling at him almost...fondly. That made it pretty hard to focus on anything other than the fluttery feeling in his chest. 

That night he sat obediently, half listening as Kyle explained complicated physics concepts and holding his breath each and every time their hands brushed against each other. What Kyle didn’t know at the time was that Cartman was already running through brand new ideas. He devised ideas that he was momentarily sure would make Kyle agree to go to prom with him then quickly realized why they wouldn’t work. By the middle of the following month, he was ready to bring his latest plan to fruition. 

••••

Kyle kind of missed Halloween. It wasn’t as though it had gone anywhere, but for the most part he’d grown out of it. He and his friends hadn’t trick or treated in years, and he had been left to pick the sour candies out of Ike’s basket. 

Ever since they’d reached the age of 14, Kyle and his friends had replaced dressing up and asking strangers for candy with what they deemed to be a more grown up activity. Every Saturday night in October, they would congregate at one of their houses and have a scary movie marathon. On this particular Friday, it was Kyle’s turn to host. 

Stan had arrived first, holding a four pack of soda and some movie he’d picked up at Walmart. Then Kenny had showed up, carrying three horror movies chosen from his family’s vast collection. For some reason, Cartman still wasn’t there almost an hour after the time they’d all agreed to meet at. 

“Your little boyfriend is really taking his sweet time getting here, huh?” Kenny said with a smile. 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Kyle was quick to argue. Stan scoffed. 

“Oh, now he’s not? Because you definitely didn’t correct Bebe earlier when she referred to you as “taken”. 

Kyle was somehow able to convey utter condescension with just a slight quirk of his eyebrow. He gave Stan a look that said he thought his reasoning should be obvious. 

“Because she was being annoying on purpose!” He said. “She was trying to get under my skin, and I wasn’t about to let her.” 

Kenny, who normally remained quiet when his friends argued, laughed disbelievingly. 

“Right, because that’s what you’re known for: Keeping your temper in check.” 

Stan smirked, but Kyle only appeared to grow more irritated. His friends were saved a lecture by the sound of heavy footsteps marching up the stairs. Kyle turned immediately toward the sound. 

“What’s up, you guys?” Cartman asked nonchalantly once he burst into the room. 

He was carting around a huge bucket of KFC chicken and a large Tupperware he’d brought from home. Kenny’s eyes lit up when he saw it. 

“Dude, did you get your mom to make something?” He asked excitedly. 

Cartman ignored him, setting the bucket on an empty desk chair and handing the Tupperware to Kyle. Kenny looked like a wounded puppy. 

“Why’d you hand it to Kyle? What is it? Cookies?” 

Cartman shut him down with a glower, but he continued to eye the container curiously. Kenny’s own mother wasn’t one to dedicate any time to homemade goods, and he was always to eager to try the things his friends’ moms made. Kyle opened the lid of the Tupperware and peered inside. 

“Oh, dude!” He said. “Cupcakes!” 

Stan perked up, straightening his back to check them out, and Kenny grinned wolfishly. He lunged forward to grab one, but Cartman stuck out an arm to stop him. 

“No, no.” He said firmly. “Kyle goes first.” 

Taken aback, Kyle opened the lid a little more. Kenny deflated. 

“Are they poisoned or something?” Kyle asked, picking up a cupcake to examine it. 

It was red velvet with vanilla buttercream frosting, Kyle’s favorite. This fact wasn’t lost on any of the boys, and they each began to get an uneasy feeling in their stomachs about where this was going. 

“Ugh. No, they aren’t poisoned!” Cartman said, clearly offended. “Try one, Kyle. Uh...here, take this one.” 

He leaned over and hand selected one of the batch, placing it into Kyle’s hand. Kyle looked down at it. 

“I’m perfectly capable of picking my own cupcakes, you know.” He said. Cartman rolled his eyes. 

“I’m aware of that,  _ Kyle _ .” He said. “But that one looks particularly delicious, doesn’t it?” 

Kyle’s eyes darted apprehensively between Cartman and the cupcake in his hand. Still looking somewhat unsure of his decision, he took a bite. The others looked on in suspense, and Kyle took in the taste of the cupcake. He relaxed. 

“It tastes really goo—“ 

Then he froze mid sentence, bringing a hand up to his mouth. Cartman smiled in anticipation as Stan and Kenny watched nervously, ready to run for help if necessary. Slowly, Kyle reached into his mouth and pulled out something small and silver. They were all quiet for a few seconds, three of them trying to decipher meaning while Cartman waited for them to get it. 

“Dude...what the fuck?” Stan muttered.

Kyle grabbed one of the napkins that had been thrown on the bed and began to wipe off the object now in his hand. Kenny started at the other cupcakes as though trying to decide whether or not he still had any appetite. 

“Cartman...” Kyle began slowly, as his friends watched with baited breath. “Could you please explain why the fuck there’s a ring in my cupcake?” 

“Woah.” Kenny said. “Stan, dude, I think we’re witnessing a proposal.” 

That suggestion made Kyle’s eyes nearly bug out of his head, but Cartman was quick to remedy the misunderstanding. He shook his head violently. 

“No, Kenny!” He said. “It’s just...something special. For Kyle.” 

He glanced hopefully at the object of his affections. 

“So he’ll go to prom with me? Maybe?” 

Kyle avoided eye contact, and he appeared to be looking to Stan for some kind of advice on how to react when someone you used to promise to hate forever was asking you to prom. Stan shrugged, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but there. 

“Well...no.” Kyle said. “Sorry. Cool cupcakes, though.” 

Cartman looked at Kenny for sympathy, tossing his hands in the air as though wanting to be told what he had done wrong. 

“But I’m being romantic!” He explained. Kyle shook his head. 

“You’re just being a show off.” He corrected. 

With that, Cartman collapsed backward onto the bed. Yet again, he had failed at wooing Kyle. Kyle held the ring between two fingers, looking at it closely and twirling. 

“This is nice.” He decided. “You took it from your mom, didn’t you?” 

Something in the tone of Kyle’s voice made Cartman feel a pang of shame. He nodded remorsefully and waited to be reprimanded. 

“Well...yes.” He admitted. Kyle gave him a look. 

“Stealing is bad, Cartman.” He said patronizingly. “See, this is one of those things that I shouldn’t have to explain to you.” 

Cartman struggled to find a witty response. How could he approach this in a way that didn’t make him seem like a dick? He was pretty sure it was impossible. 

“She won’t miss it.” He settled on. “She’s got tons of rings!” 

Kyle raised an eyebrow, and Stan scoffed. Cartman knew he hadn’t gone about it the right way. 

“It’s not about that, Cartman.” Kyle said. “It’s the principle!” 

He continued wiping the ring of cake and frosting before handing it carefully back to Cartman. 

“Give your mother my best.” He teased. “Now, can I try another cupcake or will I bite into your mom’s gold earring?” 

Cartman’s only response was a roll of his eyes, and Kyle slid the cupcakes in Stan and Kenny’s direction before grabbing another for himself. He peeled back the wrapping paper and took a bite, smiling in satisfaction. 

“These are better than normal.” He said, a thoughtful little look on his face. 

“That’s because they’re made with love, Kyle.” Cartman explained with a coquettish smile. Kyle frowned disapprovingly and took another bite. 

“You made these?” 

“I sure did. Impressed yet?” 

Kyle laughed and handed a cupcake to Stan.

“A little bit, actually. Good move.” 

At that point, Cartman had completely forgotten that Stan and Kenny were in the room with him. He’d also forgot about the KFC, which was something that rarely happened. He looked Kyle up and down, desperate to find some clue that would inform his next move. He sighed.

“Well....I’m glad you like them.” He said. 

Kyle’s smile deepened, and Cartman watched in confusion as he tore of a piece of the cupcake he was holding and handed it to him. 

“Here.” He said gently. “Try it.” 

Without breaking eye contact, Cartman took a bite. He even made sure that it was slightly more graceful than it might have been if Kyle wasn’t looking directly at him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Kyle.” He said. “This is fucking delicious. I’m a culinary genius!” 

Kyle just laughed, unbothered by the fact that Kenny was practically choking on his cupcake and Stan was loudly patting him on the back to clear his airway. 

“Are you gonna sit next to me during the movie, Cartman?” He asked. “Or are you pissed that I didn’t accept your invitation.” 

Cartman shot him an annoyed look. He could’ve made the decision to be petty. He could’ve sat on the opposite side of the couch from Kyle and refused to speak to him. At the end of the day, though, he didn’t want to do that. He craved Kyle’s attention, and here he was getting it. 

“I suppose I’ll give you the honor of sitting next to me, Kyle.” He drawled. 

Kenny, having recovered from his choking incident, stood up the bed. 

“Alright, you guys.” He said. “Can we cool it with the bedroom eyes and decide what movie to watch?” 

Cartman suddenly found the carpeted floor of Kyle’s bedroom very interesting, and Kyle busied himself with brushing cupcake crumbs off his shirt and into the waste bin. 

“Oh, now you guys are embarrassed?” Kenny laughed. “You were shamelessly flirting in front of us like five seconds ago.” 

“Shut up Kenny.” Cartman and Kyle spoke in unison. 

Stan rolled his eyes as Kenny snickered, both of them asking themselves how long their friends could pine for each other while still pretending like they weren’t a couple. 

••••

After the ring failure, Cartman decided to enlist Butters in his quest to get Kyle to go to prom with him. He would’ve preferred just about anyone else, but Butters was the only one he could convince. Even Kenny claimed that he was too busy focusing on schoolwork to help him.

It was partway through the month of the December when Butters came over for a brainstorm session. He sat on Cartman’s bed looking awkward, listening to bad idea after bad idea bounce off of him. 

"I could sing to him on the Jumbotron again?" Cartman offered. "Or, uh, convert to Judaism?" 

"Eric!" Butters scolded, turning pink in frustration. "Those things aren't romantic!" 

"What the hell?" Eric asked, dumbfounded. "Of course they are!" 

Cartman could never for a moment recognize how contrived displays of grandeur did not equate to a real, heartfelt expression of feelings. 

“No!” Butters cried. “That Jumbotron was just embarrassing for Kyle. Why don’t you do something that would be special for him?” 

Cartman squinted in confusion. Special? 

“Well, I already put balloons in his locker and tried giving him a ring.” He reminded him. “Those things were pretty special.” 

If Butters were anyone else, he would’ve rolled his eyes. Instead, he just gave Cartman a blank look. 

“Those things were your idea of special.” He said when Eric didn’t reach any conclusion on his own. “You should try something that actually relates to Kyle.” 

In Cartman’s mind, that was a revolutionary suggestion. He had assumed that his concept of romance was universal and that Kyle would adore anything he did. He shifted his thought process a little, making room for ideas that pertained to Kyle. 

“What is Kyle interested in?” Butters prompted. “What’s important to him?” 

“What’s important to him?” Cartman repeated. “Uh...making my life hard, I guess?”

This time, Butters actually did roll his eyes. 

“Let’s dig a little deeper, Eric.” He said. 

Cartman didn’t bristle at the disdain in his voice, as he was too busy expanding his mind. Kyle was one of his favorite subjects, and he certainly had a plethora of knowledge about him stored away.  _ What’s important to Kyle _ ? He thought. Good grades, basketball, his little brother, and...oh! 

Cartman pumped a fist in delight. 

“Being a jew!” He exclaimed, not realizing that he had failed to provide context for that announcement. “Kyle is totally stoked on being a Jew!” 

Butters really didn’t know what to say to that. He had known Kyle on a surface level for a long time, but he couldn’t pretend to know anything about something as personal as his faith. If there was one thing he would stake his life on Cartman knowing, it was random truths about Kyle.

“Um...well geez.” He said. “If you say that that’s what’s important to Kyle, then I believe you. What are you gonna do? Offer to go to a service with him or something?” 

Cartman sneered at him. Church was boring, and that could wait until they were married. Besides, Butters wasn’t thinking big enough. 

“No, no.” He said. “I need to do something huge. Huge and...bright! Oh my god, I have the perfect idea.” 

Butters looked unsure. Somehow it didn’t make sense to him that Eric Cartman could’ve come up with a feasible plan. Luckily for him, he didn’t have anything on the line. 

“You thought of something?” He asked. “So...can I go?” 

Cartman gaped at him, shocked that anyone would want to miss out on one of his exciting schemes. 

“No, Butters!” He said. “I need your help! So...how much room do you have in your car?” 

••••

A few weeks later, in Mid December, Cartman had everything set up for the ideal holiday themed promposal. He and Butters had arranged everything in Cartman’s bedroom, and now all they had to do was wait for Kyle to show up to their study date. 

“Do you think he’ll say yes?” Cartman asked for the millionth time that day. 

Butters looked around at the room feeling a little anxious. 

“Gee, Eric.” He said. “I’m not too sure. Are you sure this is safe?” 

Cartman followed Butters’ eyes as the shot around the room, looking at his handiwork. All over his bedroom, from the floor to the top of his dresser, there were fully lit menorahs. 

They were all different shapes and sizes, and they were all glowing brightly in the dim lighting. Cartman felt a burst of pride as he took it all in. 

“Kyle’s totally gonna love this.” He said. 

Before Butters could reply with some false declaration of agreement, a voice at the door spoke.

“What am I gonna love?”

Cartman whipped his head to look at Kyle, standing in his doorway with blue sweater on and a backpack slung over his shoulder. His eyes grew large as he digested what he was seeing: menorahs everywhere, creating an almost romantic ambiance. 

“Oh...god.” He said, leaving his jaw hung open. 

He took in his surroundings, and the million bright lights, and his former arch nemesis standing in front of him looking hopeful. It was...nice, really. But it was still so, so wrong. Cartman looked so goddamn proud of himself, too, which only made all of this worse.

“Will you...light up my night at prom, Kyle?” He asked confidently, positive that this time it would work. 

Kyle cringed at the corniness of it all. The fact that all of Cartman’s promposals thus far had been unbelievably lame wasn’t the real problem, but it certainly wasn’t winning him any points. Kyle was momentarily frozen, absentmindedly counting the menorahs and getting to twelve before he answered. 

“You know, this would be a lot better if Butters wasn’t here.” 

In an instant, Cartman whipped his head in Butters’ direction and shot him a death glare. On the bed, Butters’ eyes went wide in shock and fear.

“You heard him, Butters! Get out!” Cartman hissed. Kyle rolled his eyes. 

“No, no.” He said. “Don’t bother. It’s too late, Cartman! This still isn’t right. I do...appreciate the effort though. Where did all of these come from?” 

“Mostly thrift stores.” Butters piped up nervously. “Eric looked all over for them. I missed studying for my English midterm because I was with him at some store in Denver.”

Kyle couldn’t stop a slight smile from crossing his mouth. This whole thing was undeniably...something. It was Cartman’s idea of romance, and that counted for something. Kyle considered, for a moment, giving him a break. 

“You have to say yes, Kyle!” Cartman whined. “There’s so many fucking menorahs!” 

Kyle frowned. And with that, Cartman revealed the gaping flaw in his grand plan. Despite all the work he’d put into this, he still didn’t have an understanding of what Kyle wanted. 

“And they’re creating an insane fire hazard.” He retorted. “Not to mention disregarding the actual message of Hanukkah.” 

He picked off one of the menorahs that was on his bookshelf and began blowing out each individual candle, more to prove a point than anything. If the glowing light had been symbolic of Cartman’s best efforts, then Kyle was showing him that he could still do better. Cartman groaned in horror. 

“You’re driving me crazy, babe!” He exclaimed. Kyle just smirked. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy for nearly eighteen years.” 

Cartman scowled, but it wasn’t lost on him that Kyle hadn’t protested the pet name. Slow and steady as it was, he was still making progress. 

If Cartman didn’t know how furious it would make Kyle, he would probably have a thing or two to say about the fact that Kyle had been so angry at himself for constantly giving Cartman second chances and here he was now...about to begin his fourth chance at asking him to prom. If he had said anything about it, it probably would’ve fallen into gloating territory. 

“So does this mean you’re going to make me study again?” He asked instead. 

Kyle picked up one of the various other menorahs and began to blow. Butters, amongst the chaos of the latest rejection, snuck out the door without Cartman noticing. 

“That’s what you asked me over here to do, isn’t it?” 

Cartman exhaled frustratedly but didn’t argue. Reluctantly, he grabbed a pencil from his desk. After it had been quiet for a few seconds, a thought popped into his head. 

“Oh, Kyle!” He said. “Happy Hanukkah, by the way. It started today, right?” 

Kyle smiled, genuinely touched. 

“You remembered.” He said, doing nothing to conceal his surprise. Cartman shrugged, playing it off as though it weren’t significant. 

“Yeah.” He said lightly. “I guess I pay attention to the important things.” 

As Kyle reaches to extinguish the flames on a third menorah, he paused without explanation. Cartman stood waiting for him to say or do something, but he didn’t. He just stared for a moment, a dumb smile on his face, seemingly transfixed by the boy in front of him. 

Unable to bear the odd attention for longer than a few seconds Cartman turned to the side, hoping that the candlelight in the room wasn’t enough to reveal the pink beginning to fill his cheeks.  ••••

As they traveled deeper into the heart of winter, Cartman became increasingly distressed. It was horrible knowing that Kyle had feelings for him but was too stubborn to budge. Meanwhile, Cartman’s own feelings were only becoming more extreme. 

He’d always been entranced by Kyle, but now it was so much worse. He found himself wanting to kiss him 24/7, and it was driving him insane. Sometimes it felt like Kyle was purposely taunting him. 

“You should come over today.” He said one day in January, as Cartman followed him to class. 

“What?” 

“You should come over! We could watch a movie or something. Want to?” 

Cartman stopped in his track and stared at him. Kyle took a few more steps before he realized that he’d left Cartman behind. 

“What’s the problem, Cartman?” He asked, the ghost of a smirk on his face. 

Cartman screwed up his eyes, trying to detect the meaning behind Kyle’s question. Was this some sort of joke? 

“Yeah.” He said aggressively, thinking he was calling Kyle’s bluff. “I’ll be there, babe.” 

Kyle didn’t flinch. He just smiled and grabbed a strap on Cartman’s backpack, yanking him forward. 

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you then.” 

Cartman continued to appraise him, but he saw no hint of deception in Kyle’s body language. He spent the rest of the afternoon with anxiety swirling in stomach, trying to unscramble Kyle’s motive. 

He finished the day in a distracted haze, and he only snapped out of it once he got the message from Kyle letting him know to come over. Cartman lept out of his seat and practically sprinted down the street. He had thrown the politeness of knocking on Kyle’s front door out the window years ago, and he sped up the stairs unbotheredby all the noise he was making. 

“Oh, hey.” Kyle said when he tore through the door. 

Cartman opened his mouth to speak, but he noticed that Kyle had an unfamiliar little frown on his face. It wasn’t the kind of frown that conveyed guilt, or stress, or philosophical reflection —all of which were emotions he’d come to recognize on Kyle. This was something different...it was strange. 

“Woah.” Cartman said. “What’s the matter with you?” 

Kyle drew back, looking stunned. 

“What?” He asked. Cartman huffed. 

“You’re obviously upset, Kyle.” He pointed out. “Don’t make me jump through hoops to figure out why.” 

Kyle continued to scrutinize him, appearing contemplative. 

“Dude, I’ve been around Stan and Kenny all day, and neither of them noticed that I was feeling off.” He said finally. “How could you tell?” 

Cartman felt like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He had forgotten to factor in the fact that not everyone was so attentive to every shift in Kyle Broflovski’s mood. 

“Uh...I don’t know.” He said uncomfortably. “Will you just tell me what’s going on?”

When Kyle’s face fell again, Cartman regretted bringing the subject back to the forefront. 

“I’ve just been thinking, I guess.” He said with a sigh. “Senior year and everything.” 

Cartman hesitated slightly before going over to sit next to him on the bed. His hand hovered in the air awkwardly before he decided to place it on Kyle’s back. 

“You’re...what, like, stressed about grades and stuff?” He asked. “Didn’t you get into every college you applied to?” 

He had. Kyle was the smartest person he knew by far, and he had always been dedicated to his schoolwork. Still, that didn’t stop him from stressing out from time to time.

“It’s not that.” Kyle said, still looking forlorn. “It’s way gayer that. It’s just..the end of an era. I can’t imagine not playing video games with Stan, or basketball with Kenny, or fighting with you whenever I want to.” 

Cartman didn’t know how to make him feel better. He and Kenny knew they’d both be staying in South Park after high school, so it wasn’t like he was gonna be alone. Any thoughts he’d had about Kyle going away somewhere were stuffed far, far in the back of his mind. 

He would probably never tell any of them so, but he was going to miss his friends. They had continued to hang out with him long after when they should’ve cut him out of their lives for good, and he would never be able to thank them enough for not leaving him all alone. 

“Yeah.” He said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “That’s probably gonna suck. But look at you! You’ll be off and out of South Park. Finally, right?” 

His attempts at comforting Kyle didn’t seem to be working that well, but this problem seemed like something Kyle would need to work out on his own. 

“I guess you’re right.” Kyle said. “It’s just...hard.” 

Cartman felt a twinge of discomfort. Making people feel better was so not his strong suit, and he knew it was a testament to how much he cared about Kyle that he was even trying. 

“Well...hey.” He said, his words coming out stiltedly despite his attempts to sound sincere. “You know that you and I will always be...friends.”

An amused look crossed over Kyle’s face, causing Cartman to frown. 

“What’s so funny, you dick?” He asked. “I’m trying to be nice!” 

“You are, you are!” Kyle assured him, suddenly laughing. “I was just wondering...do you ask all your friends to prom?”

Cartman blushed. Truthfully, though, he couldn’t even be upset with Kyle for teasing him. He knew how good it felt to have the upper hand in their little rivalry. 

“Shut up! You know what I mean.” He said.“Now, are you gonna spend the whole night being emo or are we gonna do something fun?” 

Kyle seemed to remember that he had been the one who invited Cartman to hang out in the first place, and he broke out into an excited grin.

“Oh, yeah!” He said. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to show me how to make those cupcakes. My parents took my little brother to some school event, so we won’t have to worry about them bothering us.” 

Cartman hoped he wasn’t turning red, but he wouldn’t bet on it. Making cupcakes was just so...domestic. And it was Kyle’s idea. He chuckled. 

“You’re telling me that we’re home alone without parents and you want to _bake_?” He asked incredulously. 

Kyle smirked, and in one swift motion he pushed Cartman backwards onto the bed. Eric felt his heart rise into his throat as a million possibilities ran through his head. Kyle brought his mouth right up close to his ear, and Cartman thought he might explode.

“Don’t be greedy,  _ Eric _ .” He whispered. “You can’t have everything you want all the time.” 

Cartman couldn’t fight back the flood of color that had filled his cheeks. He didn’t understand how Kyle managed to be so enticing without really doing much of anything. 

“God!” He said. “Fine. Let’s go make the stupid cupcakes.” 

Kyle laughed and leaned down again, this time heading for his mouth. Cartman expected another trick, but Kyle surprised him with a seconds long kiss on the lips. A tally mark appeared in Cartman’s head, keeping a running total of all their kisses thus far. He wondered when Kyle would be able to do that without him practically going into cardiac arrest. 

“Let’s go downstairs.” Said Kyle cheerfully. “Those cupcakes aren’t gonna make themselves, are they?” 

He grabbed Cartman by the hand and pulled him up and off the bed, ignoring his grumbling. Somewhere in the jumble of thoughts fighting their way through his head, he considered whether or not baking cupcakes was something Kyle would do if he were alone with Stan or Kenny. 

As Kyle turned over his shoulder and gave him another smile, Eric sort of doubted it. 

••••

By the time February rolled around, Cartman had decided that the next time he asked Kyle to prom would be the last. That wasn’t to say that he was giving up, because failure wasn’t an option. It simply meant that the next time he asked Kyle to the dance, he would get the answer he’d been looking for.

He decided after the menorah situation that there would be short interlude while he concocted his winning idea...that supposedly short hiatus soon stretched into a two month long period in which there was hardly any talk of prom between he and Kyle.

That certainly didn’t mean that Kyle had let his guard down, though. As Valentine’s Day approached he became nervous, sure that Cartman would have something up his sleeve for a holiday dedicated to romance. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be too embarrassing.

On the dreaded day, Kyle walked into school with his shoulders a little more slouched than normal. He navigated the hallways, crowded with chocolates and flowers and couples in love. Somehow, he thought that carrying himself without his usual confidence might steer Cartman’s attention away. That suggestion was ridiculous.

“Kyle!” Cartman said as soon as he saw him. Kyle felt his stomach twist when he saw that Eric was already waiting for him at his locker.

“Okay, let’s get this over with!” He said. “If you’re gonna humiliate me, then humiliate me.”

He glanced around, scoping out the area for any signs of a karaoke machine or a singing telegram. All he saw were the shitty pink hearts taped to the walls by student council members.

“Kyle.” Cartman said chidingly, as though the very idea was preposterous. “Why would I humiliate you? I’m only standing here so I can wish you a happy Valentine’s Day.”

That only made Kyle more suspicious. He took a step away from him, his sense of unease increasing by the second.

“Kyle, I’m seriously.” Cartman assured him. “....Well, actually, what I just said wasn’t entirely true.”

Kyle took an additional step back, a look of manic satisfaction in his eyes.

“A ha!” He said. “I knew it. What are you planning?”

Cartman laughed, leaning further against Kyle’s locker. To Kyle’s chagrin, he began reaching into his backpack to pull out a package.

“What is that?” Kyle demanded. Cartman only laughed again.

“Jesus!” He exclaimed. “Relax, dude. All I meant was that I’m not just here to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day. I also have a present for you.”

He stretched out his arm to hand the small box to Kyle, who eyed it suspiciously.

“Oh my god, will you just trust me for once?” Cartman asked. “It’s just a fucking Valentine’s Day present. Excuse me for caring!”

Kyle’s resolve seemed to soften a little, or at the very least his suspicion had turned into vague annoyance. Cautiously, he took the package from Cartman’s outstretched hand.

“Can I open this here?” He asked. Cartman nodded.

“What do you think I got you, lingerie?” He joked. “Just fucking open it already, Kyle.”

Though Kyle would’ve liked to investigate the box for a little while longer, curiosity quickly outweighed his desire to take precautions. Crazily enough, he trusted Cartman when he said that the present was harmless.

He began to undo the red bow that tied the box together before patiently taking off the lid and starting to remove the tissue paper. Cartman didn’t understand how he hadn’t just torn into it, ripping of the wrapping and leaving it strewn all over the place.

When Kyle finally got to the gift, he looked visibly surprised. It was a pair of green, leather gloves...the nice kind.

“Wow, Cartman.” He said as he picked one up, looking for any signs that it had been stolen. Amazingly, the tag was still attached.

“Do you...like it?” Cartman asked, and Kyle smiled at his endearing nervousness.

“I think they’re great!” He said. “I really don’t want to know how much you spent on them. They’re...really perfect, actually.”

Cartman beamed, clearly thrilled that his purchase had been worth it. The gloves really had been kind of expensive, and he didn’t really know how he would’ve felt had Kyle not liked them.

“Sweet!” He said. “I picked them out because...you know. You gave me your glove and stuff. I figured you might need a new pair so you could quit wearing your dad’s old ratty ones.”

Kyle nodded, choosing to ignore the comment about the gloves he currently had on. He put the lid of the box back on, careful not to damage anything.

“So...” He said. “Aren’t you going to ask me something?”

Cartman played dumb, biting his lip over exaggeratedly as though desperately trying to deduce what Kyle was referring to.

“Ask you something? You mean like how to do the math homework? Yeah, I was meaning to ask you for help with that.”

Kyle scoffed as he carefully set the glove box on a shelf in his locker, handling it like he would the most delicate thing in the world.

“No, Cartman.” He said. “You know I meant prom. Aren’t you going to ask me?”

Cartman flashed a toothy, shark-like grin.

“No, Kyle.” He said. “Just because I got you a Valentine doesn’t mean I’m asking you to prom. It just means that you’re my Valentine. I just wanted to do something special for you.”

Kyle gawked, then frowned, then full on scowled. The first bell of the day rang as he went through this emotional rollercoaster, and all around them people began scattering off to class.

“What?” He asked. “What’s the deal with the gloves if they aren’t part of some promposal?”

“I’m just being a nice guy, dude.” Cartman replied a little bit mockingly, echoing Kyle’s words from the night they first kissed.

Kyle studied his face briefly, looking for a catch. Shockingly, there didn’t seem to be one.

“You are infuriating.” He said matter of factly. Cartman’s smile widened.

“Your words don’t hold much weight when you’re standing here practically begging me to ask you to prom, babe.” He pointed out. “But look, we can talk about this later. I’m gonna be late to class.”

He turned on his heel and began walking in the direction of his first period, careful to keep the rapidly increasing smugness on his face obscured from Kyle’s vision.

“I hate you!” Kyle called after him.

“You wish!” Cartman sang back, not even stopping to look over his shoulder.

In March, Cartman decided to carry on with his campaign to score Kyle as he prom date. He realized that he’d made a mistake ever recruiting Butters, and to truly succeed he would need the advice of a couple who knew a thing or two about communication and longevity.

After a few minutes of combing the cafeteria he found them nestled away in the library, sitting alone at one of the wooden tables. Tweek had a book open on a table and was reading it intently. Craig seemed only to be there for moral support, because he was doing nothing but stare off into the distance.

“Hey fags!” Cartman yelled, causing Tweek to startle and a female librarian to shush him.

“Don’t call us that.” Tweek said briefly, glancing up from his book.

Cartman’s nose wrinkled in confusion, but he was too distracted by his goal to argue. Instead he just shook his head, charging forward with his own problems.

“Uh, okay. Whatever. I need help getting Kyle to go to prom with me. Craig, how did you ask Tweek to prom?”

Tweek made a little, indignant ‘ngh’ sound. For the first time since Cartman had gotten there, Craig’s face displayed a shift in emotion. He smiled.

“Why do you assume Craig would ask _me_?” Tweek asked.

Cartman felt like he’d just stepped directly onto a bomb, and any answer he gave would cause it to explode.

“Uh...” He said, expertly avoiding the subject. “Nevermind, I guess. I just need some...tips, okay? Can I hear how...whichever one of you did the asking asked the other to prom?”

“We’re not going to prom.” Craig said flatly. Next to him, Tweek nodded.

Cartman’s jaw practically unhinged. As far as he was concerned, Prom Night was what being a teenager was all about. The lights, the music, the dancing: Who wouldn’t want to take part in all of that extravagance?

“Why the fuck not?!” He demanded. Tweek flinched at the harsh volume, and Craig shot Cartman a warning glare at the same moment that the librarian did.

“Sorry, sorry!” Cartman corrected himself, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’m just...I’m fucking confused, you guys. Why the fuck wouldn’t you want to go to prom?”

Tweek’s look of incredulity matched his own, as he practically slammed down the book he was holding.

“Why wouldn’t I want to go to prom?” He asked. “Gah! Why would I, man? It’s loud! It’s sweaty! There’s always...drama and shit. Prom sounds like a nightmare!”

“You’re crazy!” Cartman said. “It’s gonna be amazing! They’ll have, like, soda and stuff. And pizza! You—!”

”Maybe don’t argue with Tweek it you want his help.” Craig interrupted dryly.

Cartman groaned in frustration but made a mental note to stop being so argumentative. If he wanted their help, he would need to behave himself. For once.

“Okay, okay.” He conceded. “I won’t argue with you anymore. Just—help me, okay?”

The couple exchanged a meaningful glance.

“Help you?” Craig asked. “How could we possibly help you?”

Cartman made a face at him.

“Well...you know!” He said. “You guys are such a solid couple! I need to know what I’m doing wrong with Kyle, and it’s not like I have parents I can look to as an example.”

“Oh, dear God.” Craig muttered.

“Please?” Cartman asked. “I’ve done so many super sweet things, and Kyle still won’t agree to go with me! I put a ring in a cupcake, I filled his locker with balloons. And—oh my god you guys, I did this thing with menorahs. It was—-“

“Well...ugh!” Tweek said, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t have to prove that you’re good at coming up with obnoxious schemes! You don’t even have to prove that you’re infatuated with him! Every one already knows that!”

Despite not seeming to care about the issue at all a few minutes ago, Tweek had let Cartman’s insanity get the best of him. As he spoke, something inside Cartman finally clicked. He felt a flicker of understanding at Tweek’s bluntness, and he realized that this is what he needed all along. He would never have gotten this from Kyle’s vague suggestions.

“Oh!” He said. “I have to prove that...”

He fought to find the word he was looking for and snapped his fingers when he did. “I have to prove that I’m not always a huge narcissist!” He said. “Right?”

Tweek nodded forcefully.

“Right.” He said. “You need to show him that you’re in this for him...not for some kind of weird performative romance.”

“You tell him, honey.” Craig said encouragingly.

“Huh.” Cartman said thoughtfully. “I never thought about it like that before. Every time I’ve asked Kyle to prom it’s been in front of other people, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Tweek said. “And you probably acted all smug about it, like you didn’t even care if Kyle actually liked it or not because you were too caught up in your cool idea.”

Cartman felt a pang of regret. That’s what he had been doing wrong this whole time? Now that he knew, he felt like an idiot.

“God, I’m stupid.” He said.

Tweek and Craig just nodded solemnly.

“If only there was something that would show Kyle how much I actually care about him. Something like...personal. And nostalgic. And...oh!”

He stood up from his chair in a hurry, once again causing the librarian to shoot him a warning glare. Tweek looked startled by the sudden movement.

“I’ve got to go, you guys.” Cartman announced. “But if you ever need relationship advice, I’m totally down to dish it out.”

Tweek just blinked at him.

“I’d break up with Craig before I came to you for advice.” He said seriously.

Cartman cringed, already halfway out the door.

“Uh...right.” He said awkwardly.

Without giving Tweek or Craig the chance to respond again, he rushed into the hallway. Prom was two months away now, and he needed to get moving! With the deadline inching closer, he knew that this would be his last shot. Luckily, he was pretty damn sure that it would work.

••••  
  
“Uh...what’s up with you?” Kyle asked distrustfully, taking in the sight of Eric Cartman on his front door step. 

Cartman was wearing his nice maroon sweater with a white collared dress shirt underneath it. Considering it had been warming up a little with the arrival of spring, Kyle really didn’t know what to make of any of this. Under one arm, Cartman was carrying a large, black book. 

“Hi, Kyle.” He said with a little smile on his face. 

Kyle noticed that it wasn’t his typical evil grin, or even a self satisfied little smirk. No, this was new. He almost looked...shy? But that was impossible. 

“You fucking knocked.” Kyle said. “Since when do you knock on my front door?” 

Cartman pointedly ignored the question, continuing to smile pleasantly. It was a nice April day, and he wanted his attitude to match the weather. 

“May I come in, Kyle?” 

A few years before, Kyle would’ve been a lot more dubious about the whole thing. He might’ve slammed the door in Cartman’s face without fearing retaliation. But it wasn’t a few years ago, and things between them had changed. Kyle opened the door wider. 

“Yeah, dude.” He said. “Come on in.” 

Joyfully, Cartman stepped through the door and made a beeline for Kyle’s living room. Just as he’d assumed from the lack of cars in the driveway, they were the only two in the house. 

“Don’t you want to go upstairs?” Kyle asked, following closely behind him. 

Cartman made himself at home on the Broflovski’s couch and took out the large black book he was holding, setting it in his lap. 

“I made you something, Kyle.” He announced. “You want to come see it?” 

Kyle wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Anything that was born from Cartman couldn’t be good, and Kyle had rarely known him to create anything that wasn’t ruinous. Still, he sat down next to him on the couch. 

“Yeah, let’s see.” He said. 

Cartman took a deep breath, and Kyle noted once again that he seemed nervous. He opened the book’s front cover, and Kyle saw...a picture of he, Stan, and Cartman, sticking out their tongues on Cartman’s couch. Kyle could tell that the photograph was a few years old. 

“Is this...?” He asked slowly. 

He turned the page, and his suspicions were confirmed: it was a photo album. The next page featured a picture of Stan holding Mr. Kitty and one of Cartman and Kenny eating popsicles. Kyle laughed.

“Dude, you made this?” He asked disbelievingly. Cartman nodded unsurely. 

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “I just thought about that day when you were telling me how you’d...miss us and stuff. Do you like it?” 

Kyle continued to flip through the pages eagerly, laughing as the photos got older and more ridiculous. 

“I love it!” He said. “I haven’t seen some of these pictures in years. I feel bad that I don’t have anything to give you.” 

“Well,” Eric said with a nervous laugh,” that’s the beauty of gift giving, Kyle. This isn’t about me...and you’re under no obligation to give me anything in return. Just keep looking, okay?”

Kyle gave him a weird look but quickly did away with it, turning another page. His smile got bigger with each new picture, and Cartman looked over his shoulder at his own handiwork. There were touches of decoration on some pages, and he would readily admit to having spent more time on it than any school project.

As Kyle reached the end of the book, his anxiety multiplied. Cartman held his breath as he opened up to the final page. 

“...oh!” Kyle said quietly when he saw what was on it. 

There was one last picture in the book: a candid of he and Cartman laughing inside a booth at Shakey’s. Kyle couldn’t remember when it was taken or who had taken it, but they looked...so happy. Next to the picture was one word, written in blue colored pencil: _Prom_? It was so simple, so non intrusive, so weirdly sweet. He felt his heart do a backflip. 

“Look,” Cartman said as he watched him, “I meant what I said, okay? You’re under no obligation to say yes. I just thought I’d—“ 

Kyle cut him off with a kiss, cupping his face in his hand just like he’d done the first time they kissed. Cartman didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes before it was over. 

“Of course I will.” Kyle said vehemently. “This is...so cool, Cartman. Thank you.” 

“Awesome. Yeah...that’s cool.” Eric said. 

He was making a go at playing cool, but on the inside he was cheering in jubilation. He was pretty positive that this would go down in history as his crowning achievement. The front he was putting up didn’t make any difference anyway, because Kyle could always see right through him. 

“Don’t pretend you aren’t happy with yourself.” Kyle said with a laugh. “You’re allowed to celebrate.” 

Cartman allowed the grin he’d been holding back to make his way onto his face, and he pushed the album out of Kyle’s hands. 

“I finally did it!” He cried gleefully, stabbing Kyle in the chest with a finger. “I’m so happy!”

Kyle laughed at the sincerity in his voice, reaching to put the photo album on the coffee table and out of harm’s way. 

“I’m proud of you.” He said. “But Jesus, it’s been so long since you’ve asked me. I kind of thought you gave up.” 

Cartman looked at him in palpable shock, tilting his head to one side. 

“Kyle!” He said, an inkling of amusement in his voice. “Since when do we give up on each other?” 

••••

Like most things South Park had to offer, prom night wasn’t very impressive. Wendy and the rest of the committee did their best, but even the brightest fairy lights can’t turn a high school gym into Cinderella’s ball. If Cartman had attended, he would’ve been pissed.

He didn’t attend. On the night of what would have been his senior prom, Cartman was standing on the front porch of Kyle Broflovski’s house and cradling a bouquet of flowers. 

They were lilacs, to be exact, because he knew they were Kyle’s favorite. He was dressed in a tuxedo his mother had bought for him the week before and a baby blue bow tie. 

He still wasn’t completely sure if Kyle was his boyfriend, but it didn’t really matter. They definitely had a connection beyond anything he’d experienced before. They walked each other to class, and hung out alone, and sometimes made out in their bedrooms. When Kyle opened the door, he smiled. 

“Hi.” He said, examining Cartman’s outfit and the flowers. “Are those for me?” 

“Uh...duh. Happy prom, Kyle!” 

Kyle took the bouquet out of his hands, chuckling lightly at the fact that Eric Cartman was delivering him flowers. If he had told his younger self that this is where he’d be at age seventeen, he never would have believed it. 

“Babe, you should probably start getting dressed.” Cartman said, letting himself in. Kyle groaned a little. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. “I’ve been wearing these sweatpants all day. You look nice, by the way.” 

Cartman stopped walking and spun around, scrutinizing Kyle’s appearance. He caught sight of his slightly red nose and otherwise pale skin. 

“Oh.” He said blankly. “You’re sick?” 

Kyle froze, looking remorseful. He smiled apologetically.

“Just a little.” He said, before quickly changing the subject. “I’m gonna go get ready, and then we can go. Sound good?” 

Cartman took a step closer to him and touched his cheek, pulling him in and observing his face as though it were an experiment. He brought a hand to his forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re burning up!” He declared. “You need to lie down right now, Kyle.” 

Kyle ignored the suggestion, starting to walk up the stairs. 

“Well, I can’t do that.” He said. “I’m taking you to prom, Cartman! There’s snacks in the pantry if you want anything.” 

Cartman made a disapproving sound and stuck out his arm to take Kyle’s hand, leading him back down the stairs. 

“Obviously we aren’t going.” He said. “You’re running a fever!” 

Kyle let himself be dragged over to the couch, but he didn’t look convinced. He stared sternly at Cartman. 

“And? We’re going to prom.” He said. “I made it pretty much impossible for you to make this happen, and you...earned it. We’re going.” 

Cartman returned his stare, matching its assuredness. He was more than used to facing off with Kyle, and it didn’t intimidate him at all anymore. 

“I want you to have a good time, Kyle.” 

If the photo album hadn’t convinced him that Cartman’s feelings for him were genuine, that sentence would have. He set the bouquet of lilacs on the coffee table and set his jaw. 

“And I want you to have a good time, asshole.” He said. 

Cartman wouldn’t give in. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed; obviously, he’d relished the opportunity to show off the fact that he was dating Kyle. But in the end, he would rather just have a nice night with his almost boyfriend. 

“Let’s just compromise.” He said. “I’ll...pick what we have for dinner or something.”

Kyle watched in shock as he collapsed onto the couch, his final decision lingering in the air. He barely recognized the person in front of him from the one he’d known for so many years. 

“But Cartman,” He said, sounding almost breathless, “you’ve been talking about prom since freshman year. You-you live for this shit!” 

Cartman just shrugged, hoping he looked nonchalant. 

“Eh. Prom is cool or whatever, but it was never really about that. I just...wanted to be with you. That’s what I’ve always wanted.” 

Kyle was speechless and touched. He absorbed the casual expression on Cartman’s face, as though all of this were merely a part of their every day conversations. 

“Are you...sure?” He asked. Cartman didn’t waiver. 

“I’m sure, Kyle.” 

Hearing the conviction in his voice, Kyle finally joined him on his couch. He felt weird looking at Cartman all dressed up with nowhere to go. 

“You know...” He began. “Next week is my eighteenth birthday. Maybe we could all...go out to some nice dinner place or something? I wouldn’t want that tux to go to waste.” 

“That would be fun, babe.” Cartman said, and his mind didn’t drift to thoughts of their senior prom for even a second. 

He pictured himself, Kyle, Stan, and Kenny at dinner together. He smiled and took one of Kyle’s hands, lacing their fingers together. 

He wondered if that photo album had room for one more picture. 


End file.
